


screw your courage to the sticking place

by cherishmartell



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Margaery is the best girlfriend ever, Older Woman/Younger Man, Please be gentle, Tommen needs a hug, Tommen struggling to be the master of his own fate, aged up!Tommen, first got fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 02:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11980632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherishmartell/pseuds/cherishmartell
Summary: Tommen is trying to summon the courage to finally break away from the family business, but still lacks the confidence to say the words that will inevitably conjure his mother’s everlasting disapproval. Luckily, Margaery’s there to restore his pluck.





	screw your courage to the sticking place

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from a line of Shakespeare's Macbeth. 
> 
> Tommen is 22 here and Margaery is 27.

Tommen stares at himself in the mirror above Margie’s vanity as he tries to straighten his tie; his hands are shaking and this try, his sixth, goes about as well as all the others. He yanks it loose, letting the expensive scarlet silk slither to the floor as he buries his face in his hands. His skin feels clammy and he can hear his pulse thundering in his ears. His stomach is churning and he curses, at himself, for putting this off for so long and his family for the inordinate amount of pressure they put on him. They wouldn’t have cared that he was abandoning his business degree in order to become a vet if Joffrey was still alive. He’d have simply gone back to being the overshadowed one, the one who played with kittens and quailed at raised voices.  


Tommen could feel a deluge of cold erupt from his heart and had just started to creep through his chest when something brushes between him and the vanity table. He lowers his hands reluctantly, lifting his head as he prepares to shoo Ser Pounce off the table (he’d already sent several of Margie’s expensive bottles of perfume crashing to the floor). But instead of the gleaming coat and twitching whiskers, he is greeted by the sight of a gloriously rumpled Margaery sitting on the edge of the table, sporting one of his t-shirts and a serious case of bed head.  


Margaery yawns raising her arms over her head in a luxuriant stretch; the t-shirt, some remnant of his high school obsession with Mario kart, inches up, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of tanned skin and a flash of lacy underwear. But when she drops her arms and opens her eyes, he knows she’s been awake the whole time and has seen it. All the signs of an impending panic attack. He coughs, feeling his cheeks heat as he shifts, feeling more awkward than he had earlier. “Don’t. Don’t run away.” Margaery says, reaching out to snag him by his belt loop. She tugs at it and he knows he has no other choice but to crowd closer, moving to stand between her legs. She wraps her arms around his waist, the sudden feeling of warmth eases over him, chasing away a little of the anxiety. Tommen lets out a quiet sigh before he lets his chin rest against her messy nest of waves, letting his hands fall to the curves of her waist.  


One minute goes by, the two before she finally says, “What’s got you all worked up?” He takes a deep breath, feels her start to trace small circles into his back.  


“I’m telling them today….Mom, Uncle Jamie, Grandad…” Margaery pulls away, giving him the smile she’s reserved just for him.  


“Baby, that’s great!” She leans forward, preparing to give him a celebratory kiss. Then her eyes narrow. “But you’re having second thoughts.”

“No…I mean, yes…I mean…” Tommen lets out a frustrated sigh as he pulls back. Margaery lets him go, watches him rake his hands through his carefully gelled golden locks. “I just…I don’t want to disappoint her, Margie. It’s her dream to have me in the family business…”

“But it’s not yours.” She says, sliding off the vanity to stand in front of him once more. Seeing the look on his face, her expression softens, hands sliding up his chest. “She can’t live your life for you, Tommen. You need to do what makes you happy.”

“But I’d be happy if she just looked at me the way she used to at Joff. Like…she’s **proud** of me.” He mumbles. Margaery hears his voice break, see his eyes become glassy and feels her heart break. She reaches up, gently curling her fingers around his chin as she gently guides his head down towards hers. Her kiss is soft, comforting; it's enough to soothe his frantic heartbeat, but his uncertainty, his fear, still weigh on him. 

She’s the one to break the kiss and when he moves to pursue her, Margaery lifts a finger to his lips. Tommen tries to pout, but he’s curious enough wait.  


“Tommen Baratheon, you are one of the kindest men I’ve ever met. And one of the bravest.” He opens his lips to protest, but the look Margie gives him quiets him. “You saved that cat from Joffrey when you were a kid; everyone else was too afraid to say something, even your mother, but you marched right up to him and snatched him away.” Tommen shrugged bashfully, but Margaery wasn’t finished. “What about the time you stood up for your cousin? You told me those boys were older than you both, and bigger, but you still told them that if they wanted to bully Shireen, they’d have to go through you first. Joffrey would have never done something so…noble. And what about that time your mother found us in that closet? She went to slap me and you got in her way. No one’s ever stood up for me like that, but you did it without a second thought.”

“You’re an amazing man, and you’re going to make a wonderful vet. And Cersei can’t see that, then it’s her loss.” Margaery says fiercely. 

Tommen feels like he’s being warmed by the sun as he smiles at her shyly, his anxiety ebbing away until only the ghostly imprint remains. “I didn’t know you saw me like that.”  


“Well now you know.” Margaery says, giving him a bright smile. “Just like I know that today is a new day for you. You’re going to start living your life for your, and no one else.” She pulls away, ignoring his questioning look and dips down to retrieve the tie he’d tossed aside earlier and stands up. With an ease earned from years of practice, she loops it around his neck and neatly fastens it into an elegant Windsor knot. “There. Now you look ready to take on a boardroom….” She says, stepping back to study him.  


“Or…” Margaery says, giving him a smirk that makes his blood warm and his heart beat just a little bit faster, “You can start declaring your independence, if you feel like coming in late, Mr. Baratheon.”  


Tommen is blushing, but he moves towards her eagerly. “Depends on what you have in mind, Miss Tyrell.” 

“Oh, I think I can come up with something.” She says seductively, hands already working at his belt.

~~~~

Nearly an hour and a half later, Tommen walks into the lobby of Lannister Corporation. His hair is a mess and his face is still as red as the tomatoes he has sitting on the kitchen counter, but the tie around his neck is perfectly straight and he feels…resolved, if not at peace. 

No matter how things go at the meeting, one thing is certain. From here on out, he’s doing things on his own terms.

**Author's Note:**

> Come fangirl with me at https://cherishmartell.tumblr.com.


End file.
